


Denial

by MorinoAthame



Series: What's Age Got to Do With It? [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Family, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorinoAthame/pseuds/MorinoAthame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Castiel, and Crowley wait on Bobby and Sam to get back from the doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denial

Dean wasn’t sure what to think about Bobby being pregnant. The fact that the man was an omega was still sinking in. From everything he’d ever seen, Bobby was the typical alpha, or at the very least, a strong beta. Omegas were supposed to be… Well, they were supposed to be everything that hunters weren’t, really. Oh, he could see his brother as an omega, and he knew it was wrong to stereotype omegas. He’d just… always been self-conscience about the whole thing. He knew it didn’t make sense. Women made fine hunters, and other than their heats, omega men were just as strong as beta and alpha men.

Sighing, he sat down on the couch in Bobby’s living room and flipped through the channels on the older hunter’s crappy TV. He didn’t know why Bobby had cable, when clearly he had no real interest in watching anything if he’d not upgraded his set in decades. Dean’s surfing stopped on ‘Top Gear.’ He didn’t get to watch it often, but he usually enjoyed it when he did, even if he wasn’t into a lot of the cars that the hosts championed. Some of the shit they got up to was worth putting up with them getting off on modern crap cars.

“Good episode,” an accented voice said from behind him, making him jump. Turning his head, he glared at the demon. Crowley looked back with his hands in his pockets and an bored look on his face. “Where’s Robert?”

Dean took a moment to answer, realizing Crowley wasn’t there to be a pain, at least intentionally, but to see Bobby. A social call, which shouldn’t have been surprising, seeing as a social call had knocked Bobby up, or so he was led to believe. Dean wasn’t convinced it wasn’t some plot of Crowley’s.  “Uh, he had an appointment.”

Crowley looked at him expectantly a moment before rolling his eyes so hard Dean wondered if it hurt. “It really is a good thing you’re pretty.” The hunter hated when he said shit like that. Crowley gave Dean a rather unimpressed look. “ _Where_ , sunshine?”

“Obstetrician,” he answered, lifting a brow when the demon straightened up from his usual bored, at ease with the world, posture. “Dr. Freeman, town south of Souix Falls,” he elaborated, as much as he could cause he didn’t catch the place’s name, before Crowley got snarky about details. He hated that he was getting to know the demon so well.

Crowley pursed his lips, eyes darting about. “Freeman, you say?” A simple nod in answer had the demon disappearing.

The young hunter sat there, a little stunned. The demon had looked concerned, but it was still hard for him to even _imagine_ Crowley caring about Bobby or the child the old hunter was pregnant with, let alone believe it. Dean decided he just didn’t want to think about it. He had to trust that Bobby knew what he was doing; the voice in the back of his head that said Sam had thought he’d know what he was doing with Ruby was ignored.

Turning his attention back to the TV, he watched the three hosts continued to build their convertible people carrier.

“I do not understand the purpose of this entertainment,” Castiel’s voice informed him a short time later, making Dean startle again.

“Dude, you guys need _bells_.” He looked up as Castiel moved around the couch and sat down beside him. “What’s up Cas?” He asked as he looked back to the television.

Castiel stared at the television a moment then looked back to Dean. “Nothing. I have nothing else to do, so I wished to spend time with you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, Cas,” Dean teased him, smiling over at him. He steadfastly ignored the flutter in his stomach.

The angel didn’t say anything, having turned his attention to the television. Dean watched him, Castiel far more interesting than anything the hosts were doing. Castiel looked tired, and all Dean wanted to do was pull him close and sooth him so he could get some rest. “You okay, Cas?” He asked, worried that something might be bothering Castiel, or in the least hoping that there was something he could help with so that Castiel didn’t look so rung out.

The angel turned his attention back to the hunter. “I am in perfect health,” he assured, looking solemn. Dean rolled his eyes.

“I know you’re healthy. That’s not what I’m asking you.” He held the angel’s gaze. “Are you okay? Is everything alright?” He hoped that the angel would get what he meant.

Castiel gave him a tired smile. “I am well, Dean, just tired. I have been busy.”

The hunter frowned. “Busy in heaven? Things still not back to normal up there?”

He shook his head. “Raphael and I are not seeing eye to eye. I am still a bit of an outcast. Others do not listen to me well. I feel I am wasted, as much as I love my siblings. I think I will be of better use here, helping you and others.”

“Won’t that make you… fallen?” He knew how that had been for Castiel the first time.

“I won’t be cut off from my grace.” He turned his attention back to the television.

Dean wasn’t sure about this. Castiel had always been the poster boy for angelhood, up until Zachariah and Joshua. He wondered if the angel had lost himself, even though he was sure his Father had brought him back with a purpose.

Before Dean could question the angel further, Crowley appeared back into the house, making the angel stiffen. The hunter looked between the two, but neither said anything. Crowley went into the kitchen and Castiel focused so hard on the TV, Dean wondered if it might explode from the intensity of the gaze.  “You okay, Cas?” He was becoming a broken record.

He looked over at the hunter. “I dislike having Crowley around,” he told him. Dean wasn’t surprised. He disliked having him around, too.

“We’re gonna have to get used to it. Bobby wants him around.” Dean sipped the beer he’d had resting in his lap. It’d gone warm, but he was use to drinking warm beer when he had to. He sure as hell wasn’t going into the kitchen for another one with Crowley in there doing who knew what. Or so he thought.  

The demon wasn’t in the kitchen long before pleasant aroma began to waft out to the hunter and angel. Dean glanced toward the kitchen, the smells making his mouth water despite his brain telling him that there was no way _Crowley_ could cook anything edible or safe.

It didn’t help that Sam had taken over the cooking, making sure everything was fit for Bobby. This translated into small portions of meat. Sam was very particular about the amount of protein the old hunter ingested; Dean couldn’t remember why, the explanation had been long and involved. Why his brother couldn’t just _tell_ him in simple ‘this is bad, don’t do it’ terms Dean had no idea. And he didn’t even want to think about the vegetables, more vegetables than Dean had ever seen in his life; on his plate, at least.

“Your stomach is quite noisy,” Castiel spoke, drawing Dean’s attention away from the mental debate over demon cooking versus his brother’s. He felt as much as heard the noise Cas was referring to.

Dean gave a small grin. “Yeah. Whatever he’s doing in there smells good.” Damn good. He smelled meat, red meat. It was nearly enough to make him cry.

“I do not think it wise to eat demon cooking, Dean.” Castiel frowned at him in that cute way he had before turning a grim look in the direction of the kitchen.

“Yeah…” Dean sounded as unsure as he was beginning to feel. He knew eating food given to him by a demon was a bad idea, but the food smelled _really_ good and his stomach was vetoing that little bit of sense. Besides, Crowley was supposed to be trying to be there for Bobby, as unlikely and weird as it sounded. That meant he had to play nice with them, too, at least in the causing no physical harm sense. Bobby wouldn’t cotton to bodily harm, to the boys or to the demon.

Castiel was still frowning at him some minutes later when he decided to hell with his warm beer. Beer was a good enough excuse to go see what the demon was up to. Setting the beer in his hand on the end table, he stood and stretched. He blinked when Castiel was suddenly standing as well. “Uh… Cas?” The angel was acting strange, and for Cas that was saying something.

“Yes, Dean?” He asked, looking at him sternly. Dean knew that look. It meant business. It reminded him an awful lot like the look Castiel had before beating the shit out of him. He couldn’t help but swallow as it both worried him and heated his blood in a way he really didn’t want to think about.

Dean shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and headed for the fridge. He wasn’t surprised when Cas was only a _half_ -step behind him. Apparently this was about not wanting him around Crowley. Dean liked the way this protective behavior made him feel, even as he tried to again ignore his feelings.

Crowley stood at the stove, sleeves rolled up and jacket and tie off and tossed over the back of a chair at the small table. He was stirring a pot of something, raising the spoon to his lips to give it a sniff and a taste. The demon seemed satisfied, resting the spoon on a rest that Dean didn’t know Bobby even had. He knew Karen liked to cook, so it wasn’t really surprising, though.

Moving to the fridge, the hunter grabbed a beer and turned around, nearly smacking into Castiel. “Cas… Personal space,” he told him slowly, as if the angel were a small child. They’d had this talk so many times, it was a good analogy.

Castiel hummed, eyes on Crowley.

“Really, angel, I’m not going to eat your loverboy.” Dean couldn’t see Crowley’s face, he was chopping vegetables, dreaded vegetables, but Dean could picture the eye roll that went with the tone. Again with knowing the demon so well, it was disconcerting.

The angel’s eyes narrowed. Dean put a hand on his arm. “Easy, Cas.” There was irony somewhere in the fact that _he_ was being the calming force here, but the hunter didn’t look for it. So use to Crowley’s many nicknames, it took the words a moment to sink in. Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel’s arm.

“What are you cooking?” Dean opened his beer and tossed the cap in the trash.

“Supper,” Crowley answered simply, not elaborating.

Dean smirked. “Sam might have issue with your choice.” Sam was hovering over Bobby so much it was driving Dean crazy. He didn’t know how Bobby stood it.

“Moose can get his knickers twisted all he wants.”

“Hey, cook what you want. Has to be better than all the health food he’s been shoving at us. I think Bobby’s about to find some way to keep him out of the kitchen, permanently.” Dean sipped his beer and headed back toward the living room.

Crowley looked over at him. “Then I will just have to stop by and cook more often.” He smirked, clearly pleased with the idea of aggravating Sam. Dean wondered if that was really why, though, or if he’d do it because Bobby would appreciate it. Why was he starting to entertain the idea that Crowley _cared_?

Shaking his head, he went back to the couch and TV, arriving just in time to see the hosts freaking out over a monkey on the roof of their convertible Espace. He sat down and watched, only glancing at Castiel when he sat down beside him. Dean enjoyed the rest of the episode, though he was more interested in Sam getting home and the entertainment he’d get over Sam and Crowley fighting over the meal. He was curious to see which one Bobby loaded full of rock salt first. His money wasn’t on the demon.

 


End file.
